The Night Fox
by Lovely SOS
Summary: Amy is an average girl going to college as an English major, just like her aunt Beatrice wants. But Amy secretly wishes that she could be braver- and could take control over her own life. But things change suddenly for Amy when she's kidnapped; through a run-in with both a villain and a superhero, the Night Fox, Amy might finally learn how to forge her own destiny. (AU oneshot)


_**A/N**_

_This story honestly sort of came from my new found obsession with the TV show Teen Titans, sprinkled with inspiration from other things, like the ones quoted below. Anyway, I hope you like it- and check out the bottom A/N for some amazin' 'fun facts'._

_This story is an_ ALTERNATE UNIVERSE_- meaning there was_ no _clue hunt and nothing from the series besides the characters, kids. Everything here is set in _another world_._

_Dedication: For my twin, MJD, (_**MrsJoshHutcherson112**_) because she liked Teen Titans first, and she likes Tangled, and because she is cool, and for her birthday; and for being there for me always (a thousand times over and a thousand times more.)_

*~*~The Night Fox~*~*

**"-The circumstances of ones birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are." - Mewtwo, **_**Pokemon: The First Movie**_

Across what had just been a basically serene street, glass shattered as a figure smashed through the window of an apartment store.

The figure, a beautiful young woman dressed in black, was holding a fistful of pearls. She smiled into the fading light of the sunset. Such a small prize for a big break into the jewelry store- but she wasn't in it for the prizes. Not really. Sure, she took a prize here and there. It was her right to be entitled to a spoil of war every now and then. She draped the strand of delicate pearls, some pleated in swirling silver, around her neck. They dangled there against her black clothing, where a fox had been artfully embroidered.

Besides the pearls, she hadn't actually attacked for petty jewelry.

More like for fun, dashed with a little bit of vengeance. The young woman brushed shiny black hair over her shoulder, entirely unbothered by the crime she had committed and certainly not fleeing the scene. The hole she'd smashed in the window of the store was like a wide, dim yawn. Inside the mouth of the hole the destruction that had taken place inside was clearly visible, with expensive and tasteful jewelry lying amid glass from cracked counters and the smashed window. An alarm wailed.

Nearby, an old woman with a dog on a leash stood looking terrified and frozen; her hands were shaking as she fumbled to withdraw a phone from her pocket, no doubt to dial the police. The younger woman, the thief with her strand of pearls, simply watched and waited, knowing that the trembling old hag was whispering into her phone that Natalie Nox had crashed a jewelry store.

And then, only a moment later- and minutes before official police authorities would arrive- a dark shape landed from atop a nearby building. The thief, Natalie Nox herself, rolled her striking amber eyes. Her brother was arriving, of course. He was a showoff, but she could also always count on him to show _up_. She smiled slightly and inspected the nails on her left hand.

The old woman and her dog were finally fleeing.

"Natalie." Her brother hissed.

For all the world her brother appeared a hero. Tall and almost unforgivably handsome beneath the mask that covered half of his face, he was dressed entirely in black, too, and the same amber eyes as Natalie's glinted beneath the fabric of his mask. If most of the city hadn't been familiar with the siblings already, they might've appeared as a crime duo rather than a supposed villain and a supposed _hero_. Natalie's smile vanished. It was time for more serious matters.

"Ian."

Natalie shrugged, still unconcerned. The brother, Ian, stiffened. On his chest was the same fox that Natalie wore. In the past, their attire had matched completely- now all that remained was the fox, which Natalie simply kept as a reminder. Her brother, though, seemed to prefer hiding behind the mask and the protective gear he wore on his wrists and shins. Once, the two had been in things together. Ian's eyes hardened- Natalie knew he preferred being called by his new name rather than his proper one when he was wearing his little costume.

Just another way of hiding, really.

"Fine." Natalie murmured. "Night Fox, then. As the American people call you." She sneered at the name and at his status as a fabulous British hero in a small American town.

The fox once hadn't been the symbol of a hero.

"Don't pretend 'Nox' is your real name." Ian crossed his arms, his eyes still so hard, like they could bore a hole into Natalie as she had smashed one in the jewelry store window. "You're a Kabra, just as I am." Ian went on. Natalie bristled slightly. That was different; her new name fit her better. She was no longer a prissy rich girl. And the people had chosen her name- not her. She hadn't chosen her own name as Ian had, a tacky superhero name to make him feel special. "I don't have time for this anymore." Ian stated coldly. "When will you stop?" There was slightly more venom in his tone than even Natalie was used to. But she didn't let her surprise catch on; she merely shrugged.

"When I get what I want."

It was quiet for a moment, but quiet between the two siblings rarely lasted. In a moment Ian was rushing towards her, a knife already being drawn out from the gear on his forearms. Natalie twisted quickly, easily- the two knew all of each other's tricks, and the knife was not concerning to Natalie even though she was smaller and weaker than her brother. She was faster. She aimed a well-placed kick at his face and caught him in the mouth after her duck under his knife swing, which had almost been clumsy. Ian was only angered, though, at the blood that trickled from his split lip. Natalie tutted.

"I'm glad you can never manage to ruin _my_ good looks, dear brother."

Ian darted to the side as Natalie jeered, hitting her in the side with all of his force and abandoning his knife. Natalie's teeth glinted in ferocity as the wind was knocked out of her, but she recovered quickly. Her brother could probably beat her if he really tried- but he wouldn't ever go beyond a wound. He would never kill her.

And likewise, she would never kill him. But she would still take it further than he ever would. Perhaps, then, they weren't even. Perhaps Natalie had the upper hand. She was still, waiting for his next move.

"Give it up." Ian spit at her. "When will you figure it out, Natalie? Mum's death was no one's fault."

A shade of red fury seemed to drop over Natalie's sight; how dare he mention their mother. "It was _yours_," Natalie spat back, her mouth tasting metallically like blood despite the fact that it was Ian who had been kicked in the mouth and not her. For a moment Natalie reevaluated her decision never to kill Ian- but she did so often. And deep down inside of her she knew that their rift could never be re-seamed, but she had hope of darker things. Hope that Ian might come back to her and help her avenge the others who had caused their mother's death- might repent for his sin by taking down the other traitors.

"She's dead because she was _insane._" Ian's lip was still bleeding, and it bled more with his harsh words. "She's dead because she would have murdered a lot of people if she'd had her way. And don't think for a moment that she would have spared me or you."

Natalie hesitated, but only for a microsecond; but she hadn't trashed the jewelry store and drawn her brother here just for him to try and change her mind. She had done it, as she always did, to hurt her brother and make him feel the claws of her anger. She couldn't stomach killing him, no. But it was more painful for him to live, anyway. With a kick to the lip here and there. Or last fall, when she'd shot him in the shoulder. "She wanted us to have the best life possible." Natalie said. Her voice was clipped and deadly. "That's why she did the things she did. You know that."

"She assassinated people for money!" Ian hissed. "She was a hired killer." Nightmares swam in his amber eyes.

"Yes, so that _you_ could grow up with caviar in your mouth," Natalie yelled back ferociously, her vision swimming redder at her brother's audaciously ungrateful words. "She did it for _us_!" She moved closer to Ian, threats spoken silently in the very movement of her body. "And you? You betrayed her. You all did." She inched closer. There was a tiny pistol tucked into her belt and she considered bringing it out. "Every last person," Natalie went on, eyes wide with intensity, "- besides _me_ who called themselves her friends and _family_."

Ian flinched. "Her deeds caught up with her." He said quietly, the poison gone from his tone now. He sounded tired and drained. "Murder rips the soul apart, Natalie. Believe me, I know. She just... lost it."

Refusal to believe what her brother considered the truth flared up in Natalie's chest; she swung out, hitting his face once more, but this time with a strong fist rather than foot. Ian's eyes betrayed his pain upon impact, but otherwise he didn't move. Didn't make another move against his sister. Twice she'd hit him on the left side of his jaw. His blood was on her knuckles.

Once, the fox had been their symbol of siblings who were training to become proud assassins, as their mother had been. But 'once' was not now. Now the fox was a symbol of the young man the Night Fox, and the people thought he was a hero.

But to Natalie, he'd betrayed his own kind.

"See you next time, dear brother," she spat.

Natalie disappeared as the police cars rolled up at the scene.

*~*~The Night Fox~*~*

**"Heroes are ordinary people who make themselves extraordinary." - Gerard Way**

"No way Amy. No way. Please,_please_ don't tell me you're drawing the fox dude again?"

Amy Cahill, hearing the voice of her younger brother, Dan, looking up from her sketchbook with a slight glare."He's not the 'fox dude'," she retorted, hugging her sketchbook close to her heart now. "He's the Night Fox. He's a hero."

"Right." Dan rolled his eyes and slumped himself down beside Amy on the couch. "And I'm a baked potato... But whatever. You didn't answer my question." Dan leaned toward his sister, trying to sneak a peek at what could be on the paper, but she just hugged it closer to her. Her nose scrunched up and her glare intensified when Dan merely sighed and said, "I knew it. Don't you have, like... An English paper to write or something?"

Amy winced. "Well, yes. I do. But I'm on break now. Okay?"

Dan stared at the ceiling. "Why aren't you an Art major instead of English major? You're always drawing."

"We've had this discussion before," Amy responded lightly, feeling a slight tug at her heart. "English is a different kind of art, anyway. _And_ you know what aunt Beatrice says... An English career will be more successful than anything I could ever do with art." Amy didn't add that she had no way to pay for school, anyway, without Beatrice's help. By default she had to pick a career choice her aunt approved of- or else not go to college at all.

She sighed at her drawing. Which was indeed of the illustrious Night Fox. She'd been drawing him more and more lately- but there was just something about him that she hadn't been able to capture yet in her sketches. Something she didn't understand yet. As usual, she felt a tugging in her heart at her drawings and at her sketchbook in general. Just last year she'd finally come to the conclusion that she would never be able to be an artist of any kind. Instead of illustrating children's books or sketching the kinds of pictures that might hang up in a cozy cafe, she would be an English teacher like aunt Beatrice wanted. And there was to be no debate on the subject.

"Boring." Muttered Dan. "Aunt Beatrice isn't going to stop me from being a video game designer."

Amy smiled slightly. Dan had some time to change his mind if he wanted to about his future career, but something inside of her was proud of how sure and confident he sounded. Dan really managed to convince her. He just sounded so sure- Amy was sure that in a couple of years, he'd be going to college for whatever he wanted to do. With or without Beatrice's blessing. (...Or money.) Amy had no doubt that Dan would be successful in whatever he chose. A twinge of sadness filled her thoughts as she wished that she were confident, too.

"Okay, Dan." Amy consented, yawning. "I'm going to heat up some of yesterday's lasagna. Do you want any?"

Dan beamed. "Yes please."

"Alright." Amy yawned again, and then winced, knowing she really did have a paper to write. If she expected aunt Beatrice to pay for her college tuition or at least for most of it, she needed to get good grades. She would probably end up staying up half the night writing, since she'd skittered off to dreamland on her sketchpad for the last few hours. Again. "Okay... Just a minute..."

Amy tucked her sketchpad under her arm and stood up, making her way to the apartment's tiny kitchen. Beatrice had allowed some extra money for Amy to live in an apartment off-campus from college (claiming that a more solid seclusion would be better anyway for Amy's grades- "No college partying, or whatever those nasty teens do," or so she had said) since Amy's good grades from high school had scored her a decent enough scholarship. Dan tended to stay over quite often.

The first time she'd noted a regular-visiting reoccurrence from her brother, she'd asked him and gotten a short reply of:

"Beatrice is a demon woman, Amy. She's worse now that you're gone. Did you know she made me get new curtains for my room? Did you know she made me get them in the 'perfect shade of mauve?'"

He'd looked so near tears when he'd said that that Amy didn't mind too much anymore when he came around. Beatrice was rather overwhelming at times- though Amy respected that she'd taken them in when no one else could after the death of their parents a long time ago. Dan had his own key now, too, and sometimes slept on the couch. Truthfully, she was glad for some company. It was hard to make friends in college when she felt like she wasn't even doing anything she was truly good at. That, or at least something that her heart wasn't in.

Amy popped the leftovers in the microwave and set the timer for two minutes. She wearily sat down at the tiny counter and rested her head against her arms with a sigh. In a moment her eyes were closing, but she fought it- in the end, sleep won out. A very short lived battle.

After precisely two minutes, Amy nearly fell off her chair, startled into waking up by the beeping microwave and Dan yelling,

_"LASAGNA_!"

*~*~The Night Fox*~*~

**"-For a true hero isn't measured by the size of his strength; but by the strength of his heart." - Zeus, **_**Disney's Hercules**_

It was getting colder and colder outside, and the weather channel had been predicting snow all week and now the ground was slick with it after a long night of snowfall.

Amy hurried. She had one class left for the day- the class she'd stayed up writing for- and it certainly took a lot of stairways to get there. In the cold her breath came out in puffs like dragon smoke. The sky was so gray- Amy shivered. Tuesdays had her jogging all over campus to get from one class to another, though she had to be careful not to slip into the fresh, powder-like snow and the ice beneath it.

Just then her phone beeped out a text, and Amy almost ignored it; but the idea that it could be a class cancellation prompted her to look. She struggled to set down her giant bookbag and dug her phone out. Sure enough, the text displayed the message of a cancelled Literature class. Amy winced slightly, deeming it worse that class was cancelled rather than being held now that she'd trekked half a mile in the cold for no reason and had no car. Plus, there was the factor of her not having gotten enough sleep over the essay, which now couldn't even be handed in until the next day, anyway.

Amy gave herself a moment to breathe, the cold air piercing her lungs. The campus looked nice in the snow, and truthfully, she was glad that she hadn't had to climb the staircases up the hill. But it was still a long walk back home. You can have hot chocolate when you do, Amy told herself, trying to ignore that she was already a human popsicle with the sheer power of optimism. She started back the way she'd come, still careful not to slip on the ice.

The campus was dead quiet, other than some students in the distance on more level ground. Literature was one of the latest running classes in the day, and Amy figured anyone else had been smart enough to guess on the cancellation. And to just stay inside. Blissfully warm, inside...

She hurried a bit faster, but it cost her.

An unseen patch of ice ran beneath the snow and she slipped, skidding a few awkward feet forward, losing her breath out of surprise and scraping her knuckles on the ground. Amy gasped, blushing at her klutziness, though she doubted a soul was around to see. She breathed out slowly now, trying to relax, but something in the distance caught her eye and she frowned.

The students who she'd seen earlier were gone. And the campus center was... On fire? Her green eyes widened in horror as she hurried to whip out her phone a second time. The smell of smoke drifted across the field that stood between the campus center and the sidewalk she was using; her phone wasn't in her pocket. It was a few feet away in the snow. She hurried to pick it up, to call someone for help- something smacked her flat across the back and she fell again with her phone inches from her fingertips, breath lost again in a matter of seconds. Her back ached from the smart slap and the sudden confusion.

"Oops!" Said a cheery voice. A hand appeared near Amy's face and she looked up- a young man, who really couldn't have been much older than she was, was offering her his help to stand. Amy struggled to get up by herself. He didn't look familiar to her. Was he a student like her?

"That building is on fire," she gasped, stabbing a finger behind her at the campus center. "We have to do something." Amy heard the low sound of a firetruck that was far away but approaching and felt some relief; still, confusion was swirling in her head. Moments before the campus center had been fine. And now it was in flames, the smoke beginning to block out the sky above and around the building.

The boy laughed.

"I'm called Redd, where I'm from," he said, ignoring the burning building entirely. "Sorry for hitting you... It was an accident." He grinned, and something about his curving lips told Amy that it hadn't been. He- Redd- was tall and gangly and wearing what appeared to be some kind of uniform. Dark and heavy material, and a thick kevlar vest crossing his torso. His eyes were a clear blue and his hair was bright ginger- he was average looking otherwise. He looked at Amy. "Alright. So maybe it wasn't an accident... But I sure did get your attention, didn't I?" He grinned again.

Amy backed away slightly, confused. "I... I need to go home." She glanced at the campus center, where two firetrucks had pulled up and people were being pushed back by the college security. She looked back at Redd with mounting anxiety, barely believing that he had shown up out of nowhere and slapped her across the back hard enough to push her down- for the sake of getting her attention. "Are you not seeing that?" Amy squeaked of the fire.

Redd shrugged towards the flames. "I did that." He said. "Why, d'ya like it? Are you impressed?"

Amy's grip on her bookbag tightened. If this kid was telling the truth, he was some kind of pyromaniac psycho. No longer caring that her phone was still lying in the snow, Amy turned around with every intention of informing the officials that this stranger, Redd, had started the fire- or was at least claiming that he had. Her stomach clenched in discomfort, but before she'd taken even a step away from him she felt a strong hand on her shoulder.

"You're not going anywhere." Redd said, frowning slightly for the first time. He pulled Amy closer, and she flinched. He held up his free hand and flicked his wrist, and Amy's eyes widened at what she saw-

Fire, dancing in forked tongues on the palm of his hand. Amy gasped, losing the ability to speak, to scream for help. It was impossible for him to summon fire like that and to hold it in his hand, but the flames were there in Redd's palm, flickering and warm, his face losing all of its former cheeriness in the span of a mere second. "Scream, and I'll burn you," he whispered threateningly. "You got that?"

Amy nodded, dumbstruck with fear, her hands losing grip on the bookbag, which dropped. Redd muttered something about taking her with him and her hands curled into fists.

"W-what do you want?" She spat, though her voice wobbled. Redd smiled, cheery as long as Amy complied with the whole no-screaming thing. He began walking her forward, his hand pressed sharply into her back. He didn't supply an answer, and past Amy's submissive outer shell, she felt an anxious sense of urgency that she had to get away. She didn't know who Redd was or what he wanted, but he'd set an entire building on fire, endangering the lives of dozens of people. He was certifiably insane- not to mention the way he'd seemed to conjure up the fire in his palm like that.

Amy shuddered and he led her for a few minutes, slowly, past buildings and even a few people; but no one seemed to glance their way, and Redd's hand only pressed harder at the sight of them. Once Amy thought an old woman had noticed her, but she seemed to turn away.

They were approaching a door to what looked like an older warehouse of some sort. I'll run, Amy thought, shaking both from the cold and from fear. When I get to that door. I'll run-

Redd grabbed her by the shoulders as if he'd read her thoughts. He swung the door open quickly and shoved her inside, cutting off any ideas of escaping as he herded her-flames dancing in his right palm again this time- past boxes and crates and to one of the pillars across the room by a conveyor belt. He back her up against it and from the conveyor belt he picked up a rope. Still smiling as if in good cheer, he moved close to Amy and moved her arms behind her back. Fear and anger compelled her to do something and she struggled against him, but he was stronger than she was, and began to tie her hands back behind the pillar. I won't make it easy for him, she resolved through shaky nerves, squirming as much as she could. She kicked him hard in the shin in desperation, but if it hurt, he showed no sign of it.

Redd stepped back and looked at her, as if to admire his handiwork. "You're sort of pretty," he mused, and the comment sent Amy's cheeks stinging.

"W-what do you w-want?" She asked, still tugging at the bonds on her wrists. Redd sighed, as if her struggles were merely an inconvenience.

"I suppose I could tell you, if you really want to know." He looked at Amy, as if waiting for her to say, '_Yes, please- story time!_', but when she didn't, he went on anyway. His big eyes brightened and he seated himself on the conveyor belt, smiling pleasantly. "Well, you see- a nice lady paid me." Amy frowned, confused, but her thoughts were too muddled to interject and she listened to him as an almost thoughtful look crossed over his features. "Natalie Nox, actually."

Amy's eyes popped wider. Natalie Nox- she was a dangerous thief. The Night Fox, resident 'superhero', had had countless run-ins with her, but she always seemed to escape. Amy's throat felt like it was closing. Natalie Nox was no joke. Redd's presence seemed almost nonthreatening now- but she'd seen the look in his eyes when he'd warned her not to scream. And if Natalie Nox had commissioned him, then she was in even more trouble than she'd guessed. Real panic began eating at her insides.

She did the best to keep her stare as level and unemotional as she could, but the slightest movement from Redd made her flinch.

Redd inspected the sleeve of his uniform. "I'm not really from around here, but the boss was taking a bit of a vacation, so she called me in. She wanted to be sure I can keep her Fantastic Mr. Fox _busy_, y'know?"

"The Night Fox," Amy corrected him, hating his demeanor more with every passing second.

Redd smiled wider. "Yeah- him. I actually did a bit of research on him, some studying... Before I popped into town." He laughed. "Miss Nox said not to kill him, but I think I will." He paused for a moment. "You're the feminine bait, okay?" He beamed, as if proud of himself. "Where I'm from, I'll get a lot of attention if I kill the guy. So I might as well, instead of just having fun." Redd sighed. A silver of bitterness crept into his tone. "I haven't made the 'big time' yet." He straightened. "But I will. I promise."

Amy was slightly less scared of him at the idea that he could be a rookie. Maybe even new to the whole holding-random-girls-hostage thing... But the death threats towards the Night Fox didn't sound so good- and he lit up both of his palms with flames, making her wish that she could lean farther away from him, but she was tied fast to the pole. Her stomach churned. I need to get out of here, she thought desperately. Whether Redd was a junior criminal or not, she wasn't safe here.

Redd was passing fire from one palm to another- he smiled at her, and he almost looked genuinely friendly.

"I can make shapes. Do you want to see?" He asked. Amy looked away from him. She felt the rope around her wrists at the back of the pole- it wasn't as tight as it could have been. Maybe with a bit of force...

Without waiting for an answer, Redd extinguished his fire by closing his hands into fists. But he drew Amy's eyes to him again- he held his left hand out in front of him, palm up, and the other hand above it. Flicking his wrist again, ribbons of flame began curling down from his right hand and into his left. And then, in his palm was a snake- made of fire, delicately woven somehow. He moved it in his hands, and it curled around his fingers. He himself must have been fireproof- as well as his dark, shiny clothing. For a moment Amy was mesmerized. The snake was truly beautiful, and she wondered who Redd- if that was even his real name- really was. Amy watched and the snake crawled back up onto his palm, and he seemed to roll in up with his right hand and then shape it and suddenly it was a little finch bird.

She wondered for a moment (as it was her nature to look deeper) who Redd was if he could burn down a school building and threaten death on someone who had only done good to the city, but could also make such beautiful things with his hands. The curiosity caught her for a moment, and her eyes were glued to the tricks he was using- but then she remembered the possibility that she could loosen the rope. She watched him outwardly; she allowed herself to look fascinated, and she saw that it was distracting him. He looked up from his work and saw her watching. He smiled, moving on to grander things- a tiger with a lashing tail, an elephant with a rearing trunk.

While he worked- he seemed to be waiting- Amy watched, but behind her, her wrists were straining as hard as she could manage, fighting to keep her face blankly fascinated instead of showing any of her effort.

And then she felt it; the rope fall away. Her arms were aching, but she had to pretend that they were still bound.

Watching closely and trying her best not to be afraid, Amy waited for the best moment to run.

*~*~The Night Fox~*~*

**"It's not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me." - Batman, **_**Batman Begins**_

The call had come in at the police station from an elderly woman- reporting that something looked suspicious a few streets away from the scene of the fire. A young man with a young lady- the young man looking just a little too forceful, walking her along.

And the call had caught the Night Fox's attention.

A while ago he'd had someone- as an inside job- put a recording system in at the police station. Usually he was out and about enough to know when a bigger crime had been committed, or when Natalie Nox was around, since she tended to make her presence known. But occasionally, when days were slow, Ian Kabra, in his time off, would just listen to the calls coming in at the station. (...In case he needed to be not off duty any longer.)

The fire, of course, had caught his attention first, and the news stations were reporting that everyone had gotten out safely. But it was his job- a job he'd deigned as his own a long time ago-to make sure. And his quick mind was vying to know how the fire had started. Had it been an accident? Or was someone behind it? He'd thrown on his fox attire and just as he'd been about to go, the police line was spitting out the elderly woman's call. He listened sharply for a moment. That could be who he needed to find. Possibly the culprit of the fire- it didn't sound like Natalie's work to him, and he knew her well.

He slipped on his mask and was out his suite apartment and into the day. Which was a dull gray really, but nevertheless he squinted, unaccustomed to light. He wasn't called the Night Fox for no reason.

Almost immediately, he could see the fire, downtown at the college- he moved quickly. His usual method of getting from place to place was rooftops. It was an art he'd perfected. But in places where the gaps were just too wide, he would usually make his way down and dodge through alleyways. It wasn't long before he could smell the smoke.

Firemen were hard at work dousing the dying flames. Still- the building looked collaterally damaged. Ian frowned deeply into the scene; his quick eyes examined it.

He had a feeling it hadn't been an accident. The sources of the fire had thus far been claimed as 'unknown'. As far as he was concerned, that marked it down as someone's handiwork and not someone's leftover cigarette.

He changed course and made way towards the street where the old woman had called.

The air was still and it was cold; Ian thought somewhere in the back of his mind that it might start snowing again. But he focused his thoughts on looking- in the snow there weren't many footprints. He figured most people were inside and out of the cold weather. But there, leading down the street to his left, were two sets of footprints, close together. Completely, obviously clear, pressed into the powdery snow.

I'm dealing with an amateur, then, Ian thought confidently. A pyromaniac-kidnapper who didn't bother covering up his escape route. He scoffed at the tracks and began to follow them.

It wasn't long before the Night Fox was led by the tracks to a wide door. It was a warehouse of some sort, it seemed. A logo was peeling but still noticeably advertised on the wall of the building- it looked to be a shipment building or factory or something of the sort. The shabby ad depicted kitchen appliances and pots. Ian took the slightest of a moment to decide what tactic he would use and came to the decision that there was no use in waiting around.

Normally he might use a different approach. Something more elegant. But if the starter of the fire was truly behind the door- with a hostage- than he was already wasting time. His fingers moved to his belt, where he had in a little holster a deadly gun. If things were bad in there, he wouldn't hesitate to use it; he swung open the door and in one graceful movement was inside.

He saw them and immediately drew his gun, fixing it on the boy's head. He was making shapes out of fire- a trick Ian didn't understand, but didn't care to. He'd seen some odd things since getting into keeping the level of scum in the city down to nonexistent, and thus wasn't impressed. A frown was so deep on his face that his forehead wrinkled. A girl, as the old woman had reported, looked helpless, appearing tied to a pole, and Ian's grip on the gun tightened.

"Stop right there." He said, his voice ringing out into the silence like a pendulum clock at the turn of an hour. The boy's- young man's- head swiveled towards him in surprise, clearly caught off guard. Rookie, the Night Fox thought, shaking his head. He took one step forward and suddenly the girl, whom he'd assumed had been tied to the pole, shot up and punched the pyro square in the jaw. Surprise rippled through Ian's chest and his eyes narrowed even more, fingers tightening around the gun to a point of numbness.

The girl turned to him and her eyes went wide.

"What happened?" The Night Fox barked, slightly impressed by the girl's trick. The suspected fire-starter was on the floor- out cold. Ian's gun was pointed at the girl now, who was maybe not so in need of saving. He raised an eyebrow behind his mask, watching her closely.

"H-he-" The girl was stuttering nervously, and despite the big punch she'd just delivered, she looked terrified. "He started the fire-" On the floor, the young man- the fire-starter- moved and Ian whirled to face him again-

Suddenly his vision cut off and he hit the floor with a thud, his eyesight first stars and then swimming in black.

Ian could feel fire eating through his clothes.

*~*~The Night Fox~*~*

**"-I'm a damsel, I'm in distress, I can handle this. Have a nice day." – Megara, _Disney's _**_**Hercules**_

Amy screamed.

The pace of events had changed so quickly- one moment she had freed herself, but had still been waiting for the perfect moment to run. And the next, time had become slow, almost lazy, as her arms ached and her eyes watched Redd making animals out of pure fire with a concentrated look on his face. And then- the Night Fox himself had burst in, just as she'd decided to make her move.

Her punch must not have been strong enough- Redd had straightened himself up so quickly that she'd almost missed it, and suddenly the beautiful shapes he'd been making turned to long whips of fire, curling around the Night Fox. Redd looked angry and he rubbed his jaw. She glared at him, fear coursing through her veins, but he seemed to forget she was there- clearly Hell bent on the new-arrival that he'd promised to kill.

Amy had admired the Night Fox for a long time now, but Redd seemed to have taken him out in one try.

No- he was moving. Amy gasped as the still-masked Night Fox rolled, trying to extinguish the flames- then hauled himself up, the last of the fire beaten out. Almost all of his left sleeve had been burned off- his arm was blistered and a searing, the angry red of burned flesh. Redd sneered. "I'm going to kill you," he taunted, fire dancing around his hands.

The Night Fox reached for his gun and seemed to remember that it had skidded out of his hand with the first fiery impact. His eyes narrowed behind his mask and despite his burns, he moved agilely out of the way from Redd's second hot shot. Amy could see suddenly why he was called a fox- he was swift and up close, she could see the intelligence behind his eyes. That was what she'd always been missing in her art. His literal resemblance to a fox.

I need to help him, she thought. A sudden, rocky burst of bravery for the hero himself found its way inside of her; before she really knew what she was doing, she was looking around for something, anything, to use as a weapon against Redd.

There; on the assembly line. Boxes. They must have something useful, Amy thought. She crept around Redd, who's eyes had almost glazed over in anger- the Night Fox was still dodging his fire, and edging towards his gun. Amy ripped open the first box and saw a heavy iron frying pan nestled inside foam packing peanuts. Amy took a deep breath, her heart pounding almost painfully hard. Creeping up on Redd once more, she was afraid her ribcage was made of glass, and her beating heart was so relentless it might shatter her bones.

Amy swung the frying pan.

The iron pan collided with Redd's skull with a sickening thud- followed by a smaller, less metallic thud- the signature sound of Redd's second fall. Amy flinched, but her gaze hardened again the second she thought of the campus center on fire and how he'd forced her into the warehouse to use as what he called 'feminine bait'. Angrily she kicked past Redd, suddenly remembering the Night Fox.

She skidded to a halt in front of him in her hurrying.

"Are you alright?" She gasped. Judging from his arm, he wasn't. He looked badly burned. To her surprise, though, a hint of anger glinted in his eyes. Anger directed towards her, when she'd just saved him. His eyes were a beautiful shade of amber up close; Amy realized she was still gripping her pan tightly. With one last glance at Redd on the floor, she forced her arms to relax. "C-can- can I help?" She blushed, cursing herself silently.

The Night Fox glared at her. "Who do you think you are?" He hissed, almost nursing his burnt arm. Amy flinched and frowned at his words. "You're no hero. _I _came in here to save _you_. And I had it all under control."

Amy thought his British accent would have been a lot more beautiful if he hadn't been yelling at her for saving him. Flustered, her frown deepened. "W-well. Maybe I didn't need saving. Did you think of that?" Amy was confused. She'd never actually pictured herself meeting the Night Fox. Er, well, she had in daydreams- her ears turned scarlet at the thought- but she'd never imaged it would be like this.

For a resident hero, the Night Fox seemed like kind of a… Jerk.

"You-" he started, but, surprising him (and herself), Amy cut him off.

"I wasn't trying to steal the show. I was just saving myself." Amy set down her pan and brushed dust off of her pants. "I…" She glanced back at Redd. "I'm going to tie him up. For when the police get here… And then I'm going to look at your arm." Her sudden courage was making her blush vibrantly, and she was glad she had an excuse to look away. Using the same rope Redd had used on her, Amy bound the rookie-villain's wrists- tightly. (She also rather nervously checked to make sure he was still breathing after that special smack to the noggin- he was.)

When she turned back, she saw the Night Fox watching her curiously from behind his black mask. The fox emblem on his chest looked slightly burnt; he'd seated himself on one of the conveyor belts. He moved his newly-wounded arm slightly and winced through gritted teeth.

"Here," Amy called. "Let me see." She hurried over, tucking reddish-brown hair behind her ear. She, too, winced at the damage. "You're going to need someone to look at that," she said softly, her eyes on the wound. She smiled slightly. "Someone other than m-me. Uhm, experience w-wise." She stuttered a bit again under his pretty stare.

He shrugged slightly. "I'm fine with you looking at it."

"Oh. Oh!" Amy backed up slightly, looking around. "Are you sure?" He nodded solemnly at her. "Okay," Amy said reluctantly after a slight gap in their conversing. "My first aid skills aren't the best, though," she warned. Amy pointed to the far wall- a small bathroom sign was an indicator of a sink. She walked, feeling self-conscious of his gaze, and he followed her there. In the bathroom cabinet she even found a first aid kit, which included gauze.

Amy first set about peeling back the last of the burnt cloth from his arm. It was a slightly tedious task, and not for the easily sickened.

"Who are you?" The Night Fox asked her suddenly amidst her peelings, and Amy found the question ironic. It was him who had the extravagant title, and him who wore the mask and fought crime like he'd come from one of Dan's comic books. It was her turn to shrug, softly avoiding his sharp, clever fox-eyes.

"Just... a normal girl." She mumbled. "My name is Amy Cahill."

"Amy," the Night Fox murmured, and Amy felt chills down her spine at his accent. (Definitely attractive now that he didn't seem so mad.) She considered asking for his name, too, but decided against it- she had an odd feeling like he would tell her if she asked, but she figured kindly that he'd already had enough for one day. He didn't need to end it all with an identity reveal, no matter how curious she was.

"There," Amy said, removing the last bit of cloth. "That's done- come closer to the sink." She turned on the water, gliding her fingers through it to make sure it was cold. "This might hurt," she warned, moving his arm into the water. He said nothing, though from the corner of her eye, she saw his jaw tighten.

"Do you go to college?" He asked her suddenly, seeming genuinely curious. "Where the building burned down today?"

Amy nodded hesitantly at giving information to a stranger. Even if he was the Night Fox. "Yes, actually."

"What do you major in?"

"English." Amy paused, and then, for the umpteenth time in the span of less than an hour, she surprised herself again. "I'll be switching up soon, though," she blurted. "Majors, I mean."

"Is that so?" He asked, and Amy unrolled the gauze.

She smiled slightly. "…Yeah, actually. I think it is. I think… I'm going to do art."

A mental image of herself swinging the pan at the back of Redd's head gave her a strange amount of satisfaction- she, ordinary Amy Cahill, had saved a hero and, to add to that, she was now fixing up his wounds. She had a heck of a story for Dan… If she could do all of that with only a frying pan and a bit of gauze, then she could become an Art major. She thought of Dan- willing to defy Beatrice's wishes for a 'practical job' because he knew what he wanted.

And knew that by doing what he wanted, he would be happy, and through his happiness he would find a different route to success.

Calm settled over Amy's shoulders. She hadn't felt quite so strong since… Well, maybe ever. She was suddenly smiling brightly. Out of her mouth tumbled her new plans. Plans she was penciling in on the spot, to be filled in with ink later. Plans explained to a handsome stranger.

She could imagine an exciting new future for herself reflected in the Night Fox's eyes.

I can just be my own hero, she thought.

_**A/N**_

_I know this was long, my little chickadees, but I hope it was enjoyable nonetheless._

_As I stated above- this story is for none other than my entirely brilliant and beautiful twin._**  
**

Fun facts! (not really, but whatever)

_Well- I wrote this with two ideas in mind; the first being that Ian would make a really interesting character as a hero. I hope I pulled it off. I think he'd enjoy the show of it, but only when in costume- when the mask is off, I'm sure he enjoys the life of a socialite, much like Bruce Wayne/Batman. (Also like Bruce Wayne- he is without any powers of the supernatural sort.) Anyway- my second idea was that Amy, too, was a hero in the end, but more of a surprise-hero._

_I brought in the aspects of college because I did want to have the part about Amy becoming her own hero. 'Cause in the end- you can do really anything you set your mind to, and I hope that's what Amy conveyed in this story. _

_So, anyway- review with any thoughts, corrections or comments otherwise, and wish _**MrsJoshHutcherson112**_ a happy birthday!_

_Thank you so much for reading!_

_~Lovely_


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